


To Defy Death

by Rooadoodle, Sixylicious



Series: To Defy Death [11]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Daedra Worship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rooadoodle/pseuds/Rooadoodle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixylicious/pseuds/Sixylicious
Summary: A confrontation put off as long as possible, a Daedric Prince who once saved a life, and proof that some bonds are stronger than even the depths of Oblivion.





	To Defy Death

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few days after "On the Worship of Daedric Princes". Thanks Roo for writing this with me ♥

Kemosiri let himself in to Arnleif and Sons, hoping Lisbet would know where Khati was. To his surprise, she led him upstairs with none of her usual wit, simply pointing to the door to what the Redguard assumed was a bedroom. Inside, Khati sat on a stone bed, his knees pulled up to his chest and his expression almost blank. 

Kemosiri frowned and sat beside him, hesitating for a moment before resting his hand on one furred shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"She hasn't spoken to me, I can't feel her," Khati murmured. "Mother... she can't be gone, _she can't be gone!"_

The Khajiit was wild-eyed and terrified, and Kemosiri had to take a moment to banish some lingering fear of his own before responding. He didn't understand Khati's relationship with the Night Mother, so what could he do? He had to calm Khati down somehow.

"Alone..." Khati's voice broke. 

Disregarding his earlier caution, Kemosiri pulled the Khajiit to him in a tight embrace. He could feel Khati shaking. "You're not alone, Khati. I'm here now."

For as close as they had gotten again in the time since he had defeated Alduin in Sovngarde, some things about Khati were still very much a mystery. This was the weakest Kemosiri had seen him in over a year. The Night Mother's presence had left deep cracks in Khati's psyche, and while some were slowly beginning to heal under the Redguard's care, some perhaps never would.

The Khajiit clung to him tightly, claws digging into his armor as yet another wall faltered and then shattered completely. "You're here, you're here, you're here... not alone now, not alone. Can't be alone again. I feel the ash around me..."

Ash? What was he referring to? "Khati, you're safe. We're in Markarth, in Lisbet's home. There's no ash here."

Khati pulled away just enough so that he could stare into the Redguard's eyes, his grip going slack. "Markarth," he breathed. "Safe here. The Lady watches over me... Mother will come back."

From the doorway, Lisbet went stiff, a chill like ice spreading down her spine.

"She'll come back," Kemosiri agreed, for now paying the other words no mind, "And until then I'm here."

Khati exhaled, a ragged, shaky sigh. "Siri..."

"Are you with me?"

A nod. Lisbet slipped out, sensing her friend was in good hands - and not on the verge of giving up their shared secret anymore.

Kemosiri embraced him again, mostly unwilling to let the Khajiit go just yet. "You had me worried... I'm sorry about the other day. I'll try to be patient. I know... I know it must be hard for you."

"No... not your fault, don't apologize," Khati mumbled. "I need to trust you... I need to try. Mother always told me... you would hate me if you knew. You would leave."

"She doesn't know me very well. I'm not going to leave you, I promise."

Khati managed a weak smile. "I want to believe that more than anything. I'm trying, I swear I am."

Kemosiri's answer to that was a brief kiss before Khati pulled away once more, finally releasing the Redguard's armor from his claws. Kemosiri could tell he was trying to build his walls again, to steel himself for the outcome of whatever conversation they were about to have.

"Do you know how many times I almost died before I reached Skyrim?" the Khajiit asked. His voice was quiet, but the words still shocked. "Once before I even got to Sentinel... once in Wayrest. Twice in Bravil. Every other day in Morrowind it felt like I was dying, but the closest I got was on Vvardenfell... near Vivec City. What remains of it. Mother was always with me, guiding me. Then I left Morrowind, crossed into The Rift, and suddenly I had others around me again. Brynjolf. Delvin."

Khati shook his head, jolting himself free of his memories. "But once you've been truly alone, you never forget that feeling... As soon as I left I wanted to go back. But Mother said there was no place for me there anymore... Soon, my duty overtook my loneliness. I embraced it, embraced Mother, because duty hurt less than knowing I was alone. Duty meant I had brothers and sisters in Sithis somewhere, waiting for me, who would accept me no matter what." A bitter grin. "And so I forgot."

Kemosiri sat in silence for a moment as the Khajiit's words sunk in. "I tried to follow you," he found himself saying. "As soon as I found out you were gone, I tried to follow. But my father wouldn't let me."

The Khajiit let out a broken laugh and put his head in his hands. "You tried to follow... Mother said no one would miss me but you _tried to follow."_

*****

Once Khati had calmed down some, he seemed to withdraw even further into his shell. Kemosiri only sighed, glad that the Khajiit was at least accompanying him again. Maybe he could get more answers as they traveled back to Fort Dawnguard, assuming being questioned didn't set Khati off again. It often did.

They left Markarth that evening, traveling south on the road to Falkreath by foot. Khati only grew more silent as the time passed. Even when Kemosiri suggested stopping to search a tomb for treasure, thinking the prospect of gold or jewels would cheer the Khajiit up, Khati glanced almost longingly at it, but nevertheless refused and pressed on. Kemosiri was beginning to get more and more concerned. They were most of the way to Falkreath when the Redguard finally stopped.

"Khati, talk to me. Please," Kemosiri begged. 

Khati stopped and looked back at him, and for a few brief moments Kemosiri could see a decade's worth of fear and loneliness in the Khajiit's golden eyes. "I don't know how," he murmured. "Everything I've done... everything I've become... But I owe you the truth, don't I?" Maybe Kemosiri's love was strong enough to last the revelation of his secrets.

"I'll try to understand, whatever it is."

"Do you remember when you found Meridia's beacon?" Khati asked, his gaze distant. "She spoke to you then, I assume, chose you as her champion. You can't just ignore something like that... They watch you, follow you, expect you to do their bidding even if you don't want to. And all you did was find Meridia's beacon." He let out a sigh. "I told you I owe a Daedric Prince my life. I can't... that's not the kind of bond I can break."

Kemosiri frowned. "When did this happen?"

"Five years ago in Morrowind," Khati murmured. "I was exploring some ruins when an ash storm caused a cave in... I nearly died. Would have, if she hadn't appeared to me."

_She._ Kemosiri mentally ran through a list of the Princes who tended to present as female. Meridia, Azura, Nocturnal, Boethiah, Mephala, Vaermina...

"Namira. The Lady of Decay."

_Namira._ The name wasn't one Kemosiri was familiar with, not in the way he was with others. Then he recalled a memory from his time at the Dark Brotherhood's lair in Dawnstar. He had open before him a heavy tome detailing the Daedric Princes, he'd pilfered it from Khati's shelf in a fit of boredom. Many of the daedra were horrific in their own way but the memory that stuck now was the creeping feeling of revulsion as he read the chapter detailing Namira, particularly when it came to the rituals her followers held in her honor. It had been enough for him to close the book and never look at it again, enough that he prayed to the Divines that he'd never have to encounter such a terrible being.

"You didn't." Kemosiri couldn't help the edge of horror that crept into his voice.

Khati averted his gaze, fear and shame welling up and threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted to run, to hide, do _anything_ to keep from facing this, but he'd promised Kemosiri he would try. Then his gaze fell upon Namira's ring on his finger, the gold gleaming in the sunlight and his expression fell further, his ears now folding back as well. One way or another, he would lose something today.

"I was trapped underground," he admitted, forcing each word out despite the overwhelming fear he was about to lose the Redguard forever. "I was starving, so weak from hunger I could barely move. I don't remember where I found the remains, I don't remember whether they looked human or not, I just remember thinking that I had to _live,_ that Mother still needed me. And then I heard a voice. She told me she would help me live if I would serve her when I was free."

The Khajiit lifted his gaze just a bit, risking a look at Kemosiri's face with shame, fear, and now sorrow mixed together. "I had no choice... I couldn't die there. My Family needed me, Mother needed me to go on. I would have died there. I had to agree."

Kemosiri regretted his words the moment they were out of his mouth. He watched Khati wilt and shrink into himself, the shame and fear palpable as it rolled off him in waves. He'd promised he would try to understand, misconceptions and judgement had already threatened to drive them apart in the past. Had they not promised to try and understand each other? Would this really be too much, after all they'd been through together?

Kemosiri gazed off into the forest, caught the glimmer of a gray pelt among the trees - a wolf on the hunt. He thought of something Aela had told him once, some time ago when they'd been hunting together. _Man or beast, it makes no difference when it comes to survival. The only difference is men feel shame for their instincts. Pride is a human emotion, and one that leads to death more often than not._

Kemosiri exhaled softly and peeled his gaze away from the forest. "Right or wrong," Kemosiri said, "You did what you had to in order to survive."

Khati took a hesitant step closer, extending the hand that wore Namira's ring for Kemosiri to look at it if he chose. He'd never let the Redguard get a close look at it before. Up close, it was obvious that it was a Daedric artifact, the gold engraved with many of the symbols Kemosiri had seen in the pages of the book from the Dawnstar sanctuary. 

After a few moments, the Khajiit dropped his hand back to his side. "I'm afraid to take it off," he said, letting out a weak laugh. "Five years I've worn it for her, four years I've helped lead the coven, but Daedric Princes don't take defiance well."

Kemosiri took Khati's hand in his own, finally getting a close look at the ring Khati wore. He'd always been curious about it but, as with many things, Khati was hardly forthcoming when he asked about it. He never would have guessed that the ring was tied to Namira if he hadn't found the book or if Khati hadn't just told him. Kemosiri let Khati's hand slip from his own.

"Do you want to take it off?" Kemosiri asked. "I only ask because I don't wish for you do something purely for my sake."

"You say that as if I haven't done so much purely for you already," Khati answered, trying to make it sound like a joke though it would likely fall flat. "Yes. Take it off. I... trust you."

He extended his hand again and closed his eyes, almost as if he was prepared for pain. Of the artifacts he'd possessed, the only one he'd given up had been the Skeleton Key, but he'd known all along that it needed to be returned. Still, the Khajiit was afraid.

Kemosiri gave his head a small shake, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Khati had truly done a lot for him, often whether he'd really wanted to or not. Khati had always been there for him, and now it was Kemosiri's turn.

Kemosiri hesitated as Khati offered his hand, unsure if he was really worthy of doing something so monumental. Trust was not something Khati gave so willingly, to have the Khajiit admit he trusted Kemosiri - especially after all the turmoil they'd been through - was no small matter. "If you're sure about this," Kemosiri said as he took Khati's hand again. Slowly, carefully, he slid the ring off of the Khajiit's finger.

As the ring was removed, Khati felt something like a snap from deep within him, resonating throughout his entire body. For a moment he could feel Namira's presence around him, pressure on his lungs so reminiscent of the caves he'd stumbled into deep beneath Ald Sotha, and then nothing. The presence dissipated and the Khajiit inhaled, opening his eyes in time to see Namira's ring dissolve into black smoke and disappear.

"Have to see if I can face Lisbet after this," he murmured. "Much less the others. But I can deal with that when it comes... I'm _free."_

He met Kemosiri's eyes with a smile.

Kemosiri watched the ring dissolve and disappear, blown away by the wind. No doubt the ring would reform elsewhere and find its way to some other poor soul, as Daedric artifacts were so inclined to do.

He smiled at Khati and offered his hand. "I'm sure they'll understand," he said. "And if they don't, you still have me."

Khati's smile widened as he took Kemosiri's hand, unable to speak now. Instead, he pulled the Redguard in and kissed him, letting the action show what words couldn't.


End file.
